Neon Lights
by BrokenDreamz95
Summary: Life is easier when you have someone just like you by your side. Delsin/Fetch oneshot collection. Will contain spoilers for Second Son.
1. Chapter 1

His red beanie was pulled over his eyes, successfully obscuring his vision as well as annoying the utter hell out of him. He let out a grunt, hands flying to grip the thick fabric, moving it back into place, accidentally pulling his earbuds out of his ears, leaving them to fall upon his chest. His eyes fluttered open, vision struggling to focus on the world around him, until finally, he began to make out the shape and colors of a certain female Conduit he had taken quite the liking to.

She was propped up by her hands firmly planted against his chest, careful to distribute her weight evenly as not to injure him in any way. Her eyes gazed into his, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips in amusement at his current struggle. "If you're gonna' invite me over, don't be so boring about it," she grinned, giving in to her emotions, and pinched the tip of his nose playfully.

"Ow!" he cried out over-dramatically, turning his head away from the young woman's playful assault. He swatted her hand away from his face, gripping he wrist when she decided to put up a fight. With a swift tug, the pink-haired Conduit lost her balance on her arms and fell unto the cocky grinning young man beneath her, earning an _oof _from behind his lips at the added weight against his body.

"Smooth, Smokes," she muttered in slight annoyance into to fabric of his vest. "I bet you have all the girls in the palm of you hand."

"You'd be surprised, Fetch," Delsin grinned, resting his hand against the top of Fetch's head. "I'm surprised at how well you manage to put up with me."

"Oh, you have a knack for getting under my skin," Fetch smiled against Delsin's chest, snaking her arms around his torso. "But I have a knack for giving you a taste of your own medicine."

He rolled his eyes, resting his free hand against the small of her back. His eyes fluttered shut once more in hopes of finally finding the sleep he longed for before the pink-haired Conduit decided to pull his beanie over his eyes out of boredom. "And then some."

He finally managed to drift off to sleep after feeling a pair of soft lips press against the hollow of his throat.

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**A/N:** Am I the only one who loves this pairing? Delsin and Fetch are just way too adorable together. No schedule set for updating this oneshot collection, but I'll try my best to stay consistent. Hope you guys enjoyed. Until next time!


	2. He's Different

Her life wasn't exactly the best as of late – that was for sure.

Having your parents hand you over to the D.U.P. wasn't exactly the greatest thing a parent could do, but thankfully Brent was able to get her ass out of that situation before it even occurred. They ran like hell from then on, only to get mixed up in drugs – heavily, too. The drugs seemed to be a form of escape from reality for the two of them, and though the withdrawals made her want to die rather than go on another minute without a fix, she pushed through them.

That was, until that neon blast pierced straight through Brent's heart.

It was easy for the D.U.P. to pick up a depressed and deeply regretful Abigail Walker after that, and man, Curden Cay was quite the experience – of course, not a good experience, but rather, one that managed to teach her what she needed to know in order to take down those damned drug dealers who got both her and Brent in that dark place to begin with.

That Daughtry guy who managed to get past the D.U.P. forces and break her, Eugene, and himself out and back into the world only allowed her to carry out her plans of getting the dealers off of the streets and burning her brother's name into the chests' of each of them.

It wasn't long after that she met a dark haired, beanie wearing, cocky-as-all-hell Conduit that her world as she knew it was flipped on its head.

He taught her alternatives to dealing with dealers – much less violent ways, at that, which she had difficulty adapting to, and yet, he had managed to persuade her into changing the manners in which she dealt with those she swore to eliminate.

He was much different from the men she had met during her days as a drug addict.

Always seeming to be strung out and abusive towards women, she had taken caution when it came to hook-ups. Of course, that didn't mean she avoided bad decisions – she was high as often as possible, as well, and although Brent had tried his best to be that over-protective brother wanting to steer his sister in the right direction when it came to men, she always seemed to go her own path. Although she hadn't slept with many during that time in her life, those she did never wanted a full-fledged relationship, which just happened to be something she wished for deep down.

Delsin, however, was different – much different.

While he carried that bad boy persona she seemed to crave, Delsin also held a soft spot when it came to women he fancied. His sense of humor was rather similar to her own, which was surprisingly scarce in her earlier dating days, and while she did crave that bad boy, Delsin's heroic use of his Conduit powers was something she didn't know she desired until recent.

Not to mention, the sex was far beyond what she experienced with the strung out men back in her early Conduit days.

Now, as she sat on the bed of her newly acquired apartment – something she proudly obtained on her own, much to Delsin's delight – a small gasp escaped her lips as a crumpled up piece of binder paper flew past her field of vision, landing on the carpeted floor beside her.

She shot a glare in the direction of the beanie-wearing Conduit seated in the chair off to the corner, tapping his foot upon the ground to the beat of _Smells Like Teen Spirit_ playing in the background. He shrugged his shoulders and scratched his chin in response.

"Go fetch, Fetch," he smirked, throwing his arms over either side of the chair, now beginning to bob his head in time with the music.

The young woman's eyes narrowed at Delsin's play on words, and despite her utter annoyance with the young man in her apartment, she complied and hopped off the bed, reaching down to grasp the wadded up paper lying upon the floor.

The sound of the paper uncrumpling at her touch almost masked the music that played low in the background. She flattened the paper out to the best of her ability as soon as her eyes landed upon a sloppy scrawl of words in fresh ink.

_You smell nice.  
_

While it was no secret that Delsin wasn't the most romantic of guys, nor was he the absolute best with words, she had to admit that it was refreshing to at least see a guy like him try. She made sure to savor every moment, as they were rather rare, because deep down, Abigail Walker was still a woman, and women enjoyed romantic antics every now and then.

That didn't mean that she didn't enjoy teasing him, of course.

"You're a dumbass, you know that?" she rolled her eyes, although she couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips.

That dumb smirk on Delsin's face soon became a full-fledged smile. "You like me."

"How can you be so sure, huh?"

"Well, if you're the type to continue talking to, hanging out with, and sleeping with guys you don't like, I'd say you've got yourself one hell of a problem, Laser Show."

"I could say the same for you, too, Smokes," she gazed down after closing the distance between the two of them. Leaning down, she gripped the fabric of his shirt in her hands and pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss.

_"And for the record, you smell pretty nice, yourself."_

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**A/N:** Thank you all for your reviews! I didn't expect this story to get much love - inFAMOUS fanfiction seems to be lacking, which surprises me! Either way, I hope you all enjoyed, as well, and until next time!


	3. Sweatshirt

"Is that my sweatshirt?"

It was a rather simple question he had been prompted to ask the moment he spotted the pink-haired young woman shrugging into the black sweatshirt he always relied on in the cold winter months. She was scantily clad, wearing what appeared to be nothing beneath the hem of his hooded sweatshirt, and although he had just stepped out of a rather warm shower, he could tell that today was rather nippy – even in the heated hotel room. His eyes scanned the room as he wiped away the droplets of sweat from his forehead and ran his fingers through his dark, wet hair; the bed had yet to be made, and the young woman's clothing remained scattered across the floor alongside his own. He dragged his gaze across the young woman in his sweatshirt, taking longer than he should have to drink in the sight of her bare legs. He knew he was found out the moment he caught her raising an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest with a sly smirk gracing her lips.

"It is yours, yeah," she answered after what felt like a long while. "You were in the shower, so I kinda' figured you wouldn't need it."

"Uh-huh," Delsin nodded, brow rising ever so slightly and mouth remaining agape. "And why did you think that was such a great idea when your _own_ clothes are waiting to be picked up off the floor?"

"This was the closest in reach to keep me warm."

"I highly doubt you're warm in that thing," he slowly strode towards her, arms slowly moving to allow him reach of her shoulders. "Ya know, considering that you've got no pants on."

Her fingers splayed across his chest, brightly colored pink nail polish catching his eye momentarily. She swayed side-to-side ever so slightly, smiling up at the self-proclaimed Hero of Seattle, and pressed her body as close to his as possible. "I didn't think you'd have a problem with it, D. Don't tell me you're goin' modest on me, now?"

"N-no, I—" he stammered, tensing beneath her touch as her fingers drummed lightly against his bare chest. He quickly took notice of the mischievous glint in her eyes, and the tip of her tongue quickly darting out to moisten her lips.

The newest Conduit in Seattle had places to go, things to do, and people to see if he hoped to face Augustine any time soon; he had made a promise to his people, and the Akomish always made good on their promises.

Yet – he knew – this girl would surely be the death of him.

"Ya know," he breathed, mind becoming increasingly fogged with desire. "I guess it wouldn't be so bad to be selfish for a while."

His lips crashed into hers with such ferocity that took her by surprise. He could faintly hear her giggle escape past their kiss as he felt her legs wrap around his waist. His hands found their way beneath her bare thighs, hoisting her up and holding her in place against his body. A smile tugged at his currently occupied lips, and without warning, he had her on her back and against the mattress of his hotel room bed in seconds.

All that kept him from his current conquest was a black hooded sweatshirt and a damn towel, two things he could rid of quicker than anyone would think possible.

"Delsin! I think I have a lead on the last of—"

Busted.

His hands immediately left the edge of his sweatshirt, now hiked up on the young woman's body beneath him, instantly flying to the towel around his waist. Quick on his toes, Delsin used his smoke dash to move away from the bed, and instead to stand before his older brother who stood in the doorway of the hotel room with his jaw on the floor. The youngest of the Rowe brothers snarled at the older of the two.

"Dammit, Reg – didn't Mom ever teach you to knock?"

"Maybe you should've thought twice about bringing girls in your room when you gave me a key card!" The elder of the Rowe brothers growled in response. He shielded his field of vision when he caught glimpse of a pouting Fetch sitting upright on the bed. "Obviously this is a bad time."

"Erm – hi, Reg."

"Hello, _Abigail_," Reggie replied, turning his back toward the young woman and pulling Delsin aside. The younger of the Rowe brothers protested continuously beneath Reggie's grasp, glaring at the county sheriff candidate once he was pulled to stand before him.

"Listen, baby brother," Reggie began in a rather angered tone. "You need to hurry your ass up and get dressed; I've got a lead on that third – uh – _Conduit_—"

"Thank you."

"—and you need to get out there and find him."

The older Akomish man released his grip upon his brother's forearm, smiling ever so slightly when Delsin's angered expression slowly began to soften. "Atta boy, Delsin – now get dressed and get her out of here. You can handle your... business, later. Just, put the God damn do not disturb sign on your door or something so I don't walk in on you two going at it."

"Do you have to make it more embarrassing than it already is, Reg?"

"Yep – it's my job as your older brother," Reggie grinned, patting his brother on the back. He pushed past the half-naked young man, pulling the door open. "Call me when you're ready to go – got it?"

"Eeyep, got it."

"Great. Goodbye, Abigail!"

"Bye, Reggie."

The door closed tight behind the older Akomish, much to Delsin's relief. That do not disturb sign idea of his probably wasn't the worst thing Delsin could do...

His thoughts were interrupted by a girlish fit of laughter erupting from none other than the young woman before him. She was nearly doubled over in sheer hilarity, and although Delsin wanted nothing more than to scowl in her general direction, he couldn't help the amused smile that tugged at his lips.

"You should've seen the look on your face!" Fetch managed through her laughter. "You looked like the boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar!"

"God dammit," Delsin said through gritted teeth, running a hand through his hair in annoyance. "Reggie is such a major cockblock!"

Although not subsiding any time soon, Fetch's laughter lowered in volume as she made her way towards Delsin, stepping into her leggings as she did so. Her arms found their way around Delsin's neck, and, stretching up on her tiptoes, she kissed him.

"Go follow that lead Reggie found on that last Conduit," she smiled softly, pulling away from Delsin just the slightest. "We'll have all the time in the world once you kick that bitch, Augustine's, ass, D."

With a sly smile, Delsin stole one last kiss before asking, "And what makes you so certain that will be a next time?"

"You like me," she answered, taking off his black sweatshirt and throwing it his way. She placed her bra upon her body and shrugged into her shirt and coat. "That's why I know there'll be a next time."

"We'll see about that."

"Yeah," her hands moved to push the curtains away from the window, and soon gripped the latch. She opened the window in a flash and stood upon the sill, gazing back at Delsin with a smirk gracing her features. "You bet your ass we will."

Delsin was left with only a faint trail of neon once she leapt out of the window and toward God knows where. Rolling his eyes, he mumbled to himself, "Women."

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**A/N:** Hello, new followers and reviewers, and welcome to my collection of oneshots! Please, enjoy your stay! Thank you to those still reading, as well :) I hope you all enjoyed this oneshot, and, as always, until next time!


	4. Painkiller

**Warning - spoilers for the ending of Second Son**

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There would come a time when that strong, cocky, loudmouthed, tagging, delinquent, Conduit would slip up and lose his tough-guy persona, even if for a moment's time. It was inevitable – it happened to her after the tragedy of losing Brent to her own hand. That strong young woman had built walls that soon came crumbling down, which was something she first discovered after countless nights of being awoken by her own screams. However, she seemed to have forgotten that moments of weakness were not all in the same for every person on this planet.

The sounds of heavy guitar riffs and loud drumbeats echoed out of the apartment she had begun entering. Although this was nothing out of the ordinary for the owner of the apartment, the crashes she heard against the walls and floor signaled something abnormal. Her hand couldn't turn the doorknob fast enough, and in her haste, she dropped the grocery bag upon the floor, allowing its contents to spill out without a care.

She wasn't ready for what met her the moment she entered the apartment.

His coffee table lay in pieces of splintered wood scattered about the carpeted floor; traces of scorch marks and smoke litter various pieces of furniture; glass lay shattered all around; his hands are ridden with cuts, accompanied by both fresh and dried blood; and his eyes held an intensity she hadn't seen since his battle against Augustine.

Fetch had never seen him like this before – so vulnerable, so angered, so hurt.

She left the contents of the grocery bag forgotten on the floor, immediately rushing to Delsin's side. Her hands found their way upon both of his forearms, and oh so delicately, she spoke, "Delsin."

The Conduit with the distinct red beanie and jean vest jacket replied to neither her touch, nor her soft-spoken words. Instead, he appeared to be deep in the depths of his mind, almost as though he was pondering over something which was quite obviously troubling him. The chain usually kept around his wrist lay unraveled in his hand, the end dangling between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes – from what she could see as she peered at him over his shoulder – were empty, gazing at what was nothing more than thin air, and the remnants of glass shattered from a picture frame with the photograph no where to be seen.

"Delsin?" she echoed, this time in question. "Are you okay?"

Something changed within him in that moment.

He spun around to face her, breaking the grip she held against his arms. His hands found their way unto her shoulders, and in that split second, he had her pinned against the wall with a rather audible thud – one that managed to shake the frames hanging upon the wall. His brow furrowed, his nose flared, and his lip curled upward in anger.

The intensity of her stare was that of equal measure to his, for she knew well that the Copycat Conduit, as she had dubbed him, had no intention of hurting her. She had startled him, which wasn't exactly the best thing to do to someone who was not only in a fit of rage, but believed they were alone, as well. However, that didn't completely ease the fear away from within Fetch's wide-eyed stare, for she had never seen Delsin in such a state of mind. Even when he had been taking down D.U.P. officers on his hunt for exposing the truth behind Augustine, Delsin had been one with a rather gentle soul. While he could offer a beating to those who needed it, he made sure to never intentionally – nor accidentally – injure someone severely; and yet, now, as she read the emotion within his eyes, she could honestly say she was unsure of just what he was capable of in this moment.

Emotions could play a person like a puppet – that much she knew firsthand.

"Shit," was the only word that slipped past his lips after what felt like an eternity of waiting for Fetch. It had taken him longer than she had anticipated, but after a moment's time, his hands left her shoulders and he slowly stepped back. He surveyed his surroundings, taking in the sights of the mess he had made; broken glass, burnt remnants of paper, a destroyed coffee table, scorch marks in both his furniture and carpeting; a lone photograph of Reggie and himself lay forgotten upon the ground.

"Shit, Fetch, I'm—" Delsin's voice quivered as he bent down to pick up the photograph. He ran his thumb over the photo paper absentmindedly. "—I'm sorry. I don't know what the hell…"

His legs gave out from underneath him, and in an instant, he was on the ground with his back pressed against the side of the nearly torched sofa. His eyes focused on the photograph in his hand and that photograph only; it was then that Fetch knew the severity of his issue, as well as the source.

She lowered herself down beside him, her dyed hair swaying about with the simple motion, leaving a strand of hair to fall from her neatly brushed bangs and into her field of vision. Ignoring that small annoyance, she gazed at the photograph within Delsin's hands. There he stood beside his late brother, sporting a smile she hadn't seen but once during the time she had known him; a smile so genuine and happy, she took a moment to wonder if she would be allowed to see it upon his face ever again.

The older of the two Rowe brothers donned a similar smile in the photograph, standing beside Delsin with his arm thrown around his shoulders. In the background of the photo were large pine trees with no signs of the tall buildings of the city that she had grown accustomed to during her travels with Brent. Delsin never came across as much of a small town, country boy, but considering both he and Reggie were apart of the Akomish tribe, she supposed it wasn't too farfetched.

"This was about two summers ago," Delsin's voice broke the silence, startling Fetch just the slightest bit. His eyes never left the photographic proof of much happier times in his life, and although it brought many emotions he had kept hidden to the surface, he somehow allowed a smile to tug at his lips. "We were out fishing that day – Reg was always this big outdoorsman, and fishing was just one of his favorite pass times, so of course he had to get his baby brother out on the water at least once.

"I had denied, denied, denied about wanting to go. I had never been into the whole... manly-man activities like Reggie was. I was the delinquent out of the entirety of the Tribe, always more into my rock music, skating, and tagging... So you can imagine how much of a chore it was for him to convince me to get out there with him."

The Conduit paused, allowing himself a moment of silence to gather his thoughts. As Fetch waited patiently, she could have sworn she caught a glimpse of moisture pooling in his eyes.

"I think I agreed to go with him just to get him to shut up," Delsin smirked just a tad once he finally continued on with his story. "And I swore up and down that I would hate being out there in the quiet, sitting on a damn boat for hours on end while I waited for some stupid fish to bite; but, man, Reggie proved me wrong. We kicked back a few beers, shared some laughs, and caught a good amount of fish before I managed to tip the boat over and throw us both in the water as a joke. Reggie was pissed at me at first, but I had never seen him laugh so hard in his life!"

"That's a great story, D," Fetch smiled softly, leaning over to rest her head against Delsin's shoulder. "He sounds like he was quite the guy."

"He was," Delsin replied. He set the photograph down upon his lap and sighed. "I really wish you two could've gotten to know each other better. He would've loved you – trust me. I know he came off as quite the dick, but, really—"

Her hand found her way into his, fingers intertwining. Her thumb traced invisible patterns against the back of his hand. "I know he wasn't a dick, Delsin – he was a cop, and a protective big brother. I didn't make the greatest of choices in life, so I understand why he was wary. You just gotta remember that he was looking out for you, even if you thought he was being a dick. He was being your big brother – a big brother that loved you more than life itself from what I could tell. He was a lot like Brent in that sense – ya know, without the arrests and drug use..."

"Oh, stop," Delsin nudged her. "I'm sure your brother was great. I can't vouch for him raising a psychopath as a sister, but I'm sure he was gre–hey! Ow! Geez, you really are a sentimental psychopath!"

"Only when necessary, D," she half-smiled, nuzzling her head closer against his shoulder.

"I'm – uh – sorry for – uh, ya know..."

"Finishing early last night?"

"Not the time for jokes, Fetch!"

She giggled. "Hey, it happens to the best of us. Letting your emotions rule your actions, I mean. I know firsthand how that is, and look where it got me. You just can't allow yourself to take the blame for what happened to Reggie – that bitch did that to him, not you."

"If I hadn't been so hell-bent on absorbing her powers—"

"You wanted to save the Akomish she put on deathbeds, right?" Fetch questioned. "It wasn't that you were hell-bent on stealing her powers – it's that you were hell-bent on saving your people. Reggie wanted nothing more than to help you with that goal, and I know for a fact that you made him proud, D. You could've used your powers for stupid things like I did, or Teen Angel did, but you didn't. You redeemed both of us, and managed to save your Tribe. You can't tell me that Reggie wouldn't be proud of that."

He didn't respond, instead allowing her words to sink in. As much as his brother spoke ill of 'bio-terrorists', Delsin knew that Reggie would have been proud of where his baby brother stood today; a symbol of freedom and safety to not only others with unique abilities like his own, but to regular people, as well.

"Yeah, I guess you're right, Light Show. I guess you're right."

He leaned his head down against her own and closed his eyes, completely exhausted from his earlier outburst. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air, and although it was something he had grown fond of, he knew his neighbors wouldn't enjoy the smell seeping through the vents. The living area of his apartment would most likely be deemed inhabitable by a certain neon pink-haired Conduit seated beside him, if the broken furniture around them was anything to go by.

The ending of _Painkiller_ played through the speakers of his phone's dock, to which he finally allowed himself to open is eyes and survey his surroundings. Yes, it would definitely need new furniture, as well as a thorough clean up.

For now, however, he had something much more important to tend to now that he had come down from his rage filled outburst – and that something was spending the rest of his evening with the young woman beside him, who had become his rock over such a short period of time.

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**A/N:** Ahh, the feels. I want to thank my good friend Megan for giving me the idea for this oneshot. Also, I've been seeing a few requests for a full-fledged, chapter fic featuring Smokes and Light Show themselves. I'm taking the idea into consideration - if I decide to go through with it, I will let you all know! For now, I hope you enjoyed. Until next time!


	5. Taggers

Trails of bright, neon pink light faintly managed to catch his attention through the corner of Delsin's eye from his position upon one of the various rooftops within Seattle, Washington. A smile played at his lips upon notice of the light disappearing for only a moment as it scaled the wall of the building he stood upon, making an appearance once again as it reached his side, and slowly began to materialize as the petite figure belonging to one Abigail Walker.

Delsin shook the aerosol can he held in his right hand, smiling down at the young woman who gazed at him with a slight pout. Her brow was cocked in question, and though he knew she was awaiting at least a hello from his lips, the twenty-four year old Akomish man turned his attention toward the flat surface of a small wall upon the rooftop. Giving the can one final shake, Delsin aimed and squeezed down on the nozzle, releasing a spray of white paint upon the wall, accompanied by a hissing sound that was like music to his ears.

Slightly behind him stood the bright-haired young woman who continued to don the same pout she had greeted the young man with. She tapped her foot impatiently, slowly allowing the noise to become more audible and more frequent in attempt to grab the attention of the street artist who had so rudely ignored her. She could see a smirk beginning to grace his features, and as if on cue, he puckered his lips and began whistling a tune that seemed to drown out her tapping.

She rolled her eyes.

"Ya know," Fetch spoke loud and clear over the hissing of the spray paint, and whistling of the young man who enjoyed nothing more than to get under her skin, "I'm sure I wasn't invited up here to get ignored – unless, of course, that's your way of wooing a girl."

"And yet, I still manage to do just that," he grinned, taking the pressure off of the nozzle of the aerosol can until it sprayed paint no longer. He lowered his arm back down to his side, and, before turning his head to allow him a glance at Fetch, took a moment to admire his work thus far. He winked the moment his eyes landed upon her, and chuckled at her clearly irked reaction.

"Dick," she spoke with mock-annoyance in her voice, bumping her shoulder against the middle of his bicep. "Why did you invite me up here, anyway?" she asked, observing the stencil tapped upon the wall and the paint that littered it. "To show off your shitty tagging skills?"

A hiss escaped his lips at her words.

"Jesus, _Abigail_. I don't remember you being so critical of my – clearly amazing – art skills," that signature smug look of his had taken its rightful place upon his features, despite him attempting to appear as hurt by her words as possible. Nonetheless, his arm found its way across Fetch's shoulders, pulling her close to his side, while his free hand dangled a can of spray paint in front of her face. He glanced toward the stencils he had laid on the ground previously. "Today, Ms. Walker, is the day you learn how to _properly_ tag. None of that neon bullshit you do – you're gonna get down and dirty with some tape, cardboard, and a can of paint."

"You really can't go a second without taggin', can ya, D?"

Pursing his lips, Delsin clasped his hands together and rocked forward onto the balls of his feet. "Nope, 'fraid not! Now then—" loosening his grip from the can completely, he dropped it with expectations of Fetch catching it, which she, of course, did "—this wall is your canvas of endless possibilities."

Fetch groaned. "You can skip the lame-ass lecture, D," she spoke, squirming out from beneath his hold and walking forward, twirling the aerosol can around in her hand. She bent down, picking up the unused stencil that lay upon the ground, and slapped it upon the wall, securing it with strips of tape. Without hesitation, she aimed the can of paint toward the wall and quickly pressed down on the nozzle, releasing a spray of black paint upon the texture of the wall.

"No no no!" was called out in quick succession from behind her. A hand much larger that her own gripped her shoulder, pulling her back with a rather gentle force. The sunlight caught in her eyes, reflecting off of the rusted metal chain wrapped around the wrist of the hand that shot out before her, putting a halt to her painting. She squinted.

"Try to paint within the stencil, not all over the freakin' cardboard!" Delsin instructed, snatching the paint can out of the Conduit's painted-nail grip. "You'll use less paint that way – this shit is expensive, you know; and don't spray over one area too long! The paint will run, and – from experience in my early days as a tagger – drip marks are not something you want."

"Jesus, Picasso – you sure know how to make a girl swoon."

"I'm just trying to teach you—"

"How to properly tag, yeah, yeah, whatever," she shrugged and furrowed her brow. However, a smirk found its way upon her lips the moment a thought sparked in her mind. "Listen, Smokes," she grinned, leaning an arm against the young man's shoulder, stretching up on her tip-toes in order to properly see him. "I remember you telling me once that I was damn good at what I do, so just leave me with my neon, and I'll leave you with your spray paint."

He cocked a brow, glancing down at the pink-haired Conduit beside him. A slight grin played at his lips at the sight of the playful glint in her eyes. As much as he would love to teach the girl who managed to catch his eye how to properly tag the old-fashioned way, he had to admit that the girl knew her way around a wall and a beam of bright light.

He sighed in defeat.

"Fine, Fetch," he muttered, patting the top of her head with his palm. "But at least _consider _learning the classic way of street art – for my sake. I'll even let you teach me your crazy lightshow method."

"I'll think about teaching you," the young woman offered one final shrug before lowering her arm from Delsin's shoulder and ducking out from beneath his hand. She neared the edge of the building she had previously arrived at, and, without missing a beat, spoke the words, "Thanks, D," before taking off in a flurry of bright pink light.

Delsin would second guess his offer to teach Fetch when he passed by a building with a portrait of himself and the words _Banner Man _engraved into the side in neon lights and that oh so familiar girly handwriting he had come to adore.

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**A/N: **I feel like this took longer than I anticipated, so I hope it's up to par for you guys! Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! It really means a lot :) Until next time!


	6. Freaks

He set the plastic tray down upon the table with an audible _clack!_ and slid into the booth seat, tugging at his black necktie in discomfort as he did so. He loosened the tie and allowed it to hang undone upon his neck before grabbing the large soda cup that sat to his right. Taking a sip, his free hand reached out toward the tray, grabbing a handful of fries. He plopped them, one-by-one, into his mouth.

"People are starring at us," Delsin mumbled after one more sip from his drink, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Let 'em stare," the pink-haired young woman across from him laughed, taking one of two burgers from the tray and into her hands. She took a bite. "We're Conduits – we're known for being weird, D. Showing up at a fast-food joint dressed like this—" she swallowed the food in her mouth and gestured at the bright pink dress and black tuxedo she and Delsin wore, respectively, "—can't be the strangest thing they've ever seen."

He sighed in return, reaching for his own burger and removing it from the tray. He unwrapped it as quickly as possible; eyes remaining on those who continued to stare, and took a large bite out of his meal. Fetch did have a point – two Conduits dressed to the nines couldn't be the oddest things they've ever seen; but then again, two Conduits dressed to the nines in a fast-food joint? Even he had to admit that was a rather odd sight.

It wasn't their intentions, of course. It was more or less something they decided to do out of boredom.

Normally, Delsin wouldn't ditch a party – of course, as long as it was a decent party – but after having to attend a stuffy gala being held in his, Fetch's, and Eugene's honor for ridding Seattle of D.U.P. control and proving that Conduits really weren't all that bad, he had to break his commitment.

He hadn't seen so much as a hint of Eugene – and frankly, he figured he wouldn't see him at such a large gathering, to begin with – and had a – surprisingly – hard time picking out Fetch from the crowd. She had snuck up behind him as he fidgeted about uncomfortably in what he called his monkey suit, and it was then that he had proposed the idea of ditching the stuffy gathering and grabbing some dinner together.

Neither so much as batted an eyelash when they ended up at the nearest fast-food restaurant in dressy clothing.

It was a rather fitting situation for both Delsin and Fetch, in his mind, at least. They were never ones to go with the social norms, so to speak, and generally didn't give a shit about how people viewed them. They knew who they were – Conduits. Conduits that helped rid Seattle of the D.U.P. and erase the fears people held in their minds.

And as Delsin finished up his burger and picked at the remainder of his French fries, a wonderful idea popped into his mind.

One that would certainly top their little dinner date.

"What'cha say we hit the town in our fancy duds and set some dealers in their place?" he proposed, resting his head against his hand and smiling slyly. "Maybe interrogate a few and find out when the suppliers are rolling into town."

And after taking one final sip of her drink and setting it back upon the tabletop, Fetch grinned, "Sounds like a date, Smokes."

* * *

**A/N:** I apologize for both the prolonged wait and short chapter. I'm currently working on writing future chapters which are rather long, as well as gathering ideas for the future of this collection. If you have any requests, please leave them in a PM or a review :) I hope you all enjoyed, and again, I apologize for the wait. Until next time!


	7. Find You

One fifty-four AM.

That was the time indicated on her cellphone the moment she pressed the power button that awoke the device and illuminated the screen.

She stood atop a rooftop just a block away from Katie's Irish Pub, the only place that a certain Conduit might happen to be, according to fellow Conduit and Curden Cay prison mate, Eugene.

The video Conduit had called her with a concerned tone in his voice; whether that was his usual tone when speaking to others or genuine concern proved difficult to decipher for her. She had remembered the egotistical, self-proclaimed – she chose to use self-proclaimed due to her and Teen Angel, Eugene, aiding him in his conquest – Hero of Seattle had given her a rundown on the shut-in who had called her, frantically speaking at such a fast pace that she had a difficult time keeping up with. He had informed her of the young man's interest in her, as well as how he preferred to be heard rather than seen; with that information, she had assumed that the poor soul was terrified to talk to the woman he happened to fancy, but as soon as Delsin's name left his lips, she knew it was concern for him that Eugene carried with him.

The two were scheduled to meet earlier in the night to share different techniques associated with their shared power – ones Delsin himself had developed, and others Eugene had promised to show him after Seattle was ridden of the D.U.P. Of course, both Fetch and Eugene were quite used to Delsin being fashionably late – that's what you get for dating and befriending the man who took out Brooke Augustine, sent the D.U.P. packing, and stopping to help those in need whenever he could – but when he had failed to show up, Eugene became worried.

"I know he can take care of himself," he had told the pink-haired young woman over the phone, "but he isn't answering my calls or texts. Do you think something went wrong?"

No – even if something had gone wrong, Delsin would have found some sort of way out of it. That, or she herself would have come across him eventually. She had spent the majority of her night subduing drug dealers in a vast majority of the districts, and not once had she come across a trail of smoke, a scorch of neon, a hint of video, or a sliver of concrete.

Thankfully, Eugene had sent her a link to the app he had given Delsin earlier on in their oddly acquired friendship, allowing her to trace his cell-phone to its current location.

The phone application had led her one a wild-goose-chase across Seattle for the missing Conduit, forcing her to take several turns when she had strayed too far from the signal, and sticking primarily to rooftops in order to trace the signal properly. Eventually, she stopped amongst a rooftop when she deemed that the application had fulfilled it's purpose, indicating she was close to that Akomish delinquent; she would be on her own in discovering just where exactly the bastard was at.

After scanning over the alleyways nearest to her location and coming up empty, she picked over the businesses around her; all but one were closed, and that was Katie's Irish Pub.

While it definitely wasn't a place she could see Delsin frequenting, let alone stepping foot inside when there were many other bars across Seattle, it was the only business open at this moment, and the only possible place he could have been hiding out in.

She leapt off of the building from which she stood, using her neon to hover down to the street at a safe speed – and while she could sustain the fall thanks to her Conduit abilities, she figured making a loud noise outside of a bar as well as a set of apartments so early in this morning wouldn't be the brightest idea she's ever had. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she snatched her phone from her pocket and swiped her thumb across the screen, quickly proceeding to text the words, _I think I found him. Let you know in a sec._ to Eugene before making her towards and walking inside of the pub.

It was dimly lit, as most bars were, and reeked of alcohol worse than any bar she had ever been in. It wasn't the most well kept bar in Seattle, but it by far wasn't the worst, either. To her left, against the wall, were three sets of booths, none of which were currently occupied; to her right was the actual bar that seemed to stretch from one end of the small building to the other, and where three patrons sat upon bar stools, all of which had a drink in front of them. The bartender himself appeared exhausted beyond belief, and for a moment, Fetch wondered if it was from age, or boredom of hearing the same stories from the regulars that visited.

"Can I help you?"

The bartender's voice surprisingly startled her, perhaps due to her attention focused more on finding Delsin than anything else.

"Just lookin' for a friend," she answered, leaning to the right and stretching up upon her tiptoes to gaze at the third man seated at the bar, attempting to catch a glance of him past the two who sat beside him.

"Aren't you that girl I seen on the news?" the bartender mumbled, questioningly. "Uh, Abigail Walker or something like that."

She offered a small smile. "That's me, yeah."

"If ya don't mind me asking," the older man began, snatching a glass away from one of the two men visible to Fetch and refilling it with beer. "Are ya looking for that Delsin Rowe kid that ran out the D.U.P.?"

"Why? Is he here?"

The bartender jerked his thumb to his right, indicating that the third patron that seemed hidden to her short stature was, in fact, the Akomish bastard she had been looking for. "He passed out after his fifth beer or so. 'Was mumblin' about someone named Reggie and how he couldn't save 'em. I tried askin' the kid if there was someone I could call to get him home safe – I mean, if isn't everyday we see Conduits in here, and I'm sure usin' your powers drunk is as dangerous as driving drunk – but he wouldn't give me a person or a number to call. 'Was about ready to have the cops drag him outta here."

Reggie?

Was that the entire reason he had ditched his plans with Eugene? Was this his way of coping with the unfortunate death of his brother, just three weeks after the terrible incident occurred?

_Well,_ she thought, furrowing her brow as she made her way towards Delsin's seat at the bar, _it's definitely better than going on a murderous rampage like I did._

"Thanks for keeping an eye on him," she smiled, stopping beside the unconscious Conduit.

"He saved this city – it's the least I could do."

"Alright, Smokes," Fetch grunted, hoisting one of Delsin's arms over he shoulders. Slowly, she began moving the young man to his feet, struggling to keep him upright in his drunken haze. "Let's get you – whoa, easy – back home."

"Mm, Fetch?" he grumbled, breath ridden with the odor of alcohol that caused Fetch to scrunch her face in disgust. "Where we going? Taking down some dealers?"

"I'm taking you somewhere you won't be able to get yourself killed," she answered, taking notice of just how much his words slurred. That bartender was right – a drunken Conduit would be equal to – if not as worse as – a drunk driver. "Let's see, my place is closer than yours, so you're sleepin' with me tonight."

"Heh, I won't object to that."

"Not in that manner, Smokes – get your mind out of the gutter."

"Pft, whatever you say, Laser Girl."

The walk back to her apartment was a long one, considering she had to hoof it like a normal. Never once had she had to carry another person somewhere with her light speed, and she wasn't going to dare try it, especially with a drunken young man in tow. Cleaning vomit out of her clothing and hair wasn't exactly something she wanted to be doing in the early hours of the morning.

With the help of her apartment building's elevator, Fetch managed to lug the deadweight that was Delsin up to her apartment and into her bed where she would be able to keep an eye on him. He had passed out rather quickly, allowing her a moment of relaxation and opportunity to strip out of her everyday clothing and into something much more comfortable for sleep – something she still wasn't sure she would be getting much of as long as she had to keep her eye on the Conduit snoring loudly in her bed.

And when she finally lifted the covers and crawled into her bed beside the drunken young man, she felt him stir in his sleep and, eventually, roll over to rest his arm lazily across her waist, pulling her close to him in a slow, yet rough, manner.

"Damn, do I miss Reggie," he slurred, the stench of alcohol from his breath filling the air. "I bet him and Brent are having a grand old time together, watching out for us up there."

And although the image of Brent and Reggie befriending each other brought on the urge to laugh, she had to crack a smile because she knew that Delsin's words were most likely true. Even though Brent shared Delsin's personality, she knew he and Reggie would manage to bond over both of them being older brothers, watching out for their younger siblings and cursing to themselves whenever they managed to get themselves in trouble.

But one thing was for sure; she knew both of them were immensely proud of the people their younger siblings had become.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm back with a quick update! No, this isn't the longer fic I promised before. I hope that one to be much longer, at least over 1k words. We shall see what happens. :] I think this chapter is best represented by the song Find You by Zedd, but that's just me. Let me know what you all thought of this chapter. I've been rather busy playing around with Second Son's photo mode. If you'd like to check out my screenshots, you can either find me on Twitter under the handle LexiSaysThings, or on my deviantArt account, numbah-wan-avatar. Until next time!


	8. Brotherly Love

His baby brother had never been one to hold long-term relationships.

Beginning as far back as middle school, the eldest of the brothers Rowe had carefully observed his rebellious younger brother from the confines of his high school career. The then thirteen-year-old Delsin Rowe's womanizing ways had emerged, and although he was much too young in his brother's eyes, the youngest of the two had the girls of his class – as well as others – in the palm of his hand.

Reggie was the one handed the responsibility of teaching his brother about safe sex due to their parents' untimely demise. Although rather awkward and something he would have much rather avoided, he knew it had to be done given his brother's growing reputation and popularity amongst the younger female population. The conversation was filled with unbearably awkward and prolonged moments of silence, immature laughter from the younger of the two at any mentions of words he deemed hilarious, and – in true Delsin Rowe nature – terrible jokes cracked at the most oddest of times.

And although he knew his brother would learn how to preform this task in his future home economics class in high school, Reggie was the one to teach him the correct manner of putting on a condom – demonstrated on a banana, of course, which Delsin found most hilarious.

He was better safe than sorry – Reggie wanted no part of becoming an uncle before the age of thirty.

By the time Delsin began his high school career, Reggie had graduated among the top of his class – and while that was an achievement he would cherish, he couldn't stand the thought of not being able to keep a watchful eye on his younger brother. He could only hope that the rebellious teenager managed to follow his advice for practicing safe sex when he began to suspect the young man had lost his virginity during his first, short-lived relationship.

From his time in the police academy, to climbing the ranks within the police force and his eventual run for and election as sheriff, Reggie had witnessed several different girls come and go from his baby brother's life. He had eventually made it an unspoken rule between both himself and Betty to never become close with the young women lucky enough to be introduced to them by the young man – and that was a rather small list of select few.

And while his brother was one of the most caring young men anyone could have ever met, he did have a seemingly unsatisfiable hunger for the female population.

So when the youngest of the Rowes stumbled into the hotel room the two shared, tip-toeing into the bathroom early in the morning, sirens went off within Reggie's head.

He knew exactly what his brother had spent his night doing.

"Have fun last night, bro?" he asked, turning down the volume on the television set and setting the remote upon the table beside the chair he sat.

"Oh, you know," Delsin clasped his hands together, a shameful grin gracing his boyish features as he backed out of the bathroom and stood in the entryway, his gaze meeting his brother's. "We – uh – took down some dealers! Even managed to grab the suppliers and free some prostitutes. Dumped the drugs in the harbor – you know, heroic stuff. Bettering the Seattle community. Hey, you're up early! What's that about?"

"Delsin," Reggie's deep voice took on an authoritative tone, one he often was forced to use with his brother. "Look, I know you see good things in this girl, but – and I can't believe I'm going to say this about a murderous bio-terrorist—"

"Conduit."

"—_Conduit_, sorry – but dammit, she's still a girl; a girl with feelings. Don't you think leading her on and sleeping with her is a bit much? We won't be in Seattle long."

"I'm not leading her on, man! What do you take me for?" The young man ran his hands beneath his beanie in frustration. "And what does it matter if we won't be in Seattle long? I can't have a girl in another god damn town?"

"Your track record with girls, Delsin, think about it! Besides," the Salmon Bay native rose from his seat and furrowed his brow in anger, "I don't want my brother hanging around a drug addicted murderer!"

"She's clean, man, and she isn't killing dealers anymore!"

"Just because she's clean doesn't mean she won't have a relapse – in both drugs _and _murder – murder, Delsin, not killing! There's a difference!"

"What right do you have to dictate who I spend my time with, huh?" Delsin snarled, stomping toward his older brother. As soon as he was as close as possible to the older Akomish man, he continued, "I'm helping this fucking city, and that means helping the community – and dammit, Reg, Fetch is a part of this community, and with my help, she's learning more humane ways to release her grudge toward the drug dealers!"

"_Abigail_ is a wanted criminal, Delsin! Not just a bio-terrorist wanted by the D.U.P., but a murderer wanted by the Seattle PD!"

"I'm at the top of the DUPs most wanted list, and I'm sure your boys in blue want to take me in for something, too!"

"I don't want to see you waste this girl's time!"

"I'm not wasting her time, Reg! Why can't you just accept that I like this girl?"

"Because I know that my baby brother can do a lot better than some murderous, recovering addict bio-terrorist!"

Silence fell over the hotel room as soon as Reggie's words left his mouth.

Both brothers stood before each other, lips curled upward and brows wrinkled from their angered expressions. The first to seemingly calm himself, however, was Reggie.

He knew that – despite his obvious dislike for the neon Conduit – the words he spoke were over the line.

He was surprised to not have been shot down by his smoke-wielding, neon-shooting brother right then and there.

"I love you Reg," Delsin's voice came out no louder than a whisper; his tone alarmingly calm given the current circumstance. "But don't make me break that handsome nose of yours."

"Delsin—"

"I know you think you know what's best for me, but I'm at that age where I think I can handle decision making rather well," the young Akomish continued. He took a few steps backward, distancing himself from his older brother quite possibly in order to avoid doing something he would regret. His hand ran across his jaw as it flexed, and his gaze dropped to the floor, almost as though he was carefully examining a crime scene. "Fetch is a lot different from the chicks I dated in the past – different in the sense that I want to keep her around for as long as she's willing to stay. If you don't like it, then tough luck, brother; I plan to have her around for a long ass while.

"I should get going – that third Conduit isn't gonna just swoop in and make their presence known."

The elder of the Rowe brothers allowed his gaze to trail upward, locking on to the back of Delsin's head as he turned on his heel. Silence had engulfed the quaint hotel room once more, and an unsettling feeling had taken over Reggie's body. Time seemed to stop in its tracks, and images of the past played like a slideshow for his mind's eye. Memories of simpler times flashed before him, portraying that goofy grin belonging to the rebel of the Akomish Tribe. Beside him stood the his older brother with a smile spreading from ear-to-ear, remaining the same throughout each memory as they fast-forwarded up until the current point in time. He hadn't taken the time to properly observe just how much his brother has grown over the past few years, for he had and always would see him as the small-town delinquent, and his mischievous younger brother.

Never had Reggie imagined that his baby brother would learn just what it was to carry responsibilities and heavy weight upon his shoulders; and yet, here he stood, a young man with newly awakened power and a promise to make things right, all while protecting a city he didn't even belong to.

Although it killed him to know that his baby brother was no longer that, and instead had grown into a amazingly kind and caring young man, a nagging thought in the depths of Reggie's mind told him that he always knew – he had just refused to believe it.

The sound of the hotel room door closing brought the sheriff away from his mind and back to reality. His brother had left without a goodbye, clearly focused on finding the third and final Conduit who would bring him one step closer to facing Brooke Augustine; one step closer to free the city of Seattle of the tyranny they faced, and one step closer to saving those of the Tribe that she had ruthlessly attacked.

Perhaps he would make an attempt to stop fretting over his younger brother and the people he decided to keep company with, for they had more important things to worry about for the time being. Besides, Reggie knew he would be content with whoever Delsin decided to date, just as long as the young woman made his baby brother happy.

If that young woman happened to be Abigail Walker, then so be it.

Grabbing his phone from his pocket, the older man swiped his finger across the screen and dialed a few numbers before hitting the call button. He brought the phone up to his ear and waited.

"Yeah, this is Sheriff Rowe; got any news? The Lantern District, huh? And you're sure it's bio-terror–er, Conduit activity? Okay. Thanks, I'll let my brother know."

* * *

_**A/N:**_ I swear, I've written this author's note three times already. That's what I get for updating from my phone, I suppose. Anyway, here is the long awaited chapter! I hope it has lived up to any hype I may have unintentionally caused. Thank you all for your kind reviews – I love reading them! I wish I had the time to personally thank each and every one of you with every review you send in, but time is not on my side with prepping for college. Ack. As always, I look forward to reading your kind words, and until next time! I hope you all enjoyed.


	9. In Typical Fashion

When she is as certain as one can be that he is asleep, Fetch takes the time to observe him closely.

Her eyes scan over the contours of his face, storing information within her mind of every faint freckle and blemish she managed to find upon his tan skin. The stubble against his jaw is prickly to her feather-like touch, and although she prefers him clean-shaven, she just can't get over the feeling of him rubbing his chin against her cheek when he believes it annoys her. His eyelashes appear as thick as ever with his eyes closed as he sleeps, and for a moment, she envies just how gifted men can be in that sense, where she and many other women rely on mascara to help them achieve the look they desire. Upon the bridge of his nose lies a scratch that has begun to scar, and she wonders when, where, and how he got it; when your the newly dubbed Hero of Seattle, however, the possibilities are endless – drug dealers, thieves, the D.U.P. forces that continued to roam the streets. She'll ask him about it later, when they are both fully awake and ready to start the day, if she happens to remember.

She brings her head back down toward his body, resting her cheek upon his chest, pressing her ear close to his heart. The steady rhythm of its beat lulls her to sleep each night, bringing her relaxation in such an odd manner. She listens to the sound closely, smiling softly as she turns to hide her face against the cotton of his t-shirt.

It's interesting and brand new, this feeling she carries for the young man who sprung himself into her life in such an odd manner. Since the death of her brother, she has let revenge against the dealers who – in a sense – were just as responsible for his death as she was rule her life. Never has she had the time for others – especially after spending seven years locked away in the hell known as Curden Cay; somehow, however, that all changed the moment she welcomed the young Akomish man enter her life.

"You somehow managed to change this girl's view of the world, Smokes," she whispers against his clothing, voice muffled and barely of an audible volume. "You took a hellbent dealer killer and molded her into some crazy version of the DEA. How you managed that, I'll never know."

Her eyes flutter shut, eyelashes brushing against the fabric of his t-shirt. Her hold around his torso tightens, and she scoots her body as close to his as possible until she can feel him against every inch of her being. He's as warm as can be – a plus for her during the cold, winter nights in Seattle – and the sensation of his body against hers during simple, everyday interactions other than sex fills her stomach with butterflies and her head with a feeling of lightness.

"You'll never know the hold you have on me," she mumbles, nuzzling her face further against his chest. His scent – a mixture of burning wood, pine, and musk, with a slight hint of cologne – fills her nostrils as she inhales deeply. "No one has ever had this effect on me because I've never felt like this towards anyone."

Her hand moves up to her head, tucking a few loose strands of her dyed, pink hair behind her ear. She unclasps her hands from each other and moves one to lay upon his chest, absentmindedly tracing invisible patterns against the cotton of his shirt. It's odd, really, how comfortable she is talking to him when she knows he is incapable of hearing her. When the young man is awake, she is a stubborn, sarcastic, joking individual with a flirtatious side; but when he is asleep, she allows her walls to come crashing down around her, promoting her to spill her heart out to the Conduit that managed to capture her interest. She hasn't been able to be as open and honest with anyone since the death of her brother, having always been so focused on her skewed perception of revenge. Delsin, however, tore her walls down from day one, and since then, her world has changed completely – it has changed for the better.

"God," her voice is muffled once more against the fabric of his shirt, "you see what you do to me, D? I sound like such a girl."

His chest rumbled beneath her touch, startling her just enough to pull away. Her eyes travel to his face, widened in confusion the moment she catches the smile that has made its home upon his lips. She can feel her face heating up as she begins to realize just what his smile meant – that sly bastard heard everything. She should have known better than to believe he had truly been in a state of slumber.

"Delsin!" she swats his chest both in play and annoyance, and he erupts in laughter beneath her. Her face makes its home against the cotton of his shirt, as if hiding there would truly fool him into believing she had disappeared.

His arms snake around her waist, pulling him close to his body that continues to rumble and vibrate with each laugh that escapes his lips. It's comforting, in an odd way, to Fetch, despite her obvious embarrassment.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough," his voice is ridden with sleep, despite his obvious time being up. He had to have been tired, given the current time as well as the activities he accomplished throughout the previous day. "You wanna grab some breakfast later? Pancakes sound really good."

He was kidding, right? Or was he actually half-asleep, perhaps not even knowing what exactly was going on?

Fetch glances up from behind the ridges of the young man's shirt, gazing at the digital clock upon the nightstand of the hotel room. It was quite early – three-twenty-two in the morning, to be exact; definitely too early to be thinking about breakfast. Then again, this was Delsin Rowe speaking to her – he wasn't exactly the most normal out of the bunch, especially given the topics he often brought into conversation.

"I mean," his voice rings out amongst the silence, tearing her away from her thoughts, "think about it. We could hit up one of the diners around town, eat a nice meal, maybe seek out some dealers and get info on their suppliers later on. It'll be great – and you'd be doing it at as my girlfriend. It'd be like one, big, crazy date."

Wait.

Girlfriend?

Is he actually suggesting they make things official? In an odd manner, yes, but this was typical Delsin Rowe; Fetch shouldn't expect anything different.

"Is this your way of suggesting we make things official, Smokes?" she inquires, propping herself up against her arms, hands resting upon Delsin's chest. She makes sure not to put all of her weight against him, though she was certainly much smaller than him, and definitely not something he couldn't handle.

He shrugs lazily beneath her, eyes half-lidded as he gazes at her from behind his thick eyelashes. "I'm not suggesting anything unless you want me to be, I guess."

Typical Delsin Rowe.

She presses her lips against his in the darkness of the room; quickly, lovingly, smiling just the slightest.

She pulls away, brushing her nose against his. His eyes are closed as she gazes at him, but she nods with enthusiasm anyway. "Then my answer is yes."

His lips stretch into a grin that seems to brighten up the dark room. His hold around her tightens, hugging her close to his body, and she melts at his touch.

"Great," he speaks, breath hot against the skin of her face. "Now how about answering to being my girl?"

A grunt escapes him the moment her fist makes contact with his chest.

Typical Delsin Rowe – she shouldn't expect anything less.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ This idea has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while, now. It was about time I got it written down. It's quite fluffy, I must admit, but hopefully not overly so. Also, good news! I'm working on a chapter fic for the infamous fandom. Everything is in the beginning stages of planning and first drafts, but I promise to keep you updated. I hope to begin posting before the summer. Anyway, enough of that, I hope you all enjoyed. Until next time!


	10. Snapchat

_Bzt, bzt!_

His hand darted into the pocket of his jeans, fingers making contact with the cool metal backing and edges of his phone. He pulled it out quickly, holding the game controller in his free hand lazily, eyes shifting continuously from the television screen to the glass screen of his phone. Upon his lock screen sat a Snapchat notification, with the sender stated as one _Abigail Walker_.

"You gotta' take that?" Eugene asked from his seat upon the floor, back pressed against the sofa. His eyes remained on the game, only flickering his gaze over to Delsin for what seemed like a millisecond, hands gripping his game controller for dear life as he directed his character around, pressing buttons every so often.

"It's just a snap from Fetch," Delsin replied, quickly and clumsily navigating to the application on his phone. His eyes snapped back toward the television screen as he waited for the application to load. "Probably just showing off her latest tag or something."

"Oh," the younger Conduit uttered, taking his hands off of his controller to adjust the position of his glasses for a quick moment. "Well we can pause this for a sec, Delsin; it's alright."

"No need, man," the copy-cat Conduit replied, catching a glimpse of the now loaded application out of the corner of his eye; his attention shot back toward his phone. He tapped the icon in the bottom left corner of the screen, bringing him to his feed which listed all of his sent, opened, and unopened picture and video messages with names ranging from both Fetch and Eugene, as well as a few names from his group of friends back in Salmon Bay. At the very top of the list sat his latest message, the name _Abigail Walker_ in bold letters, and the status unopened beneath her name. "This'll be..."

His voice trailed off the moment he pressed his thumb against the area of the message on the touchscreen of his phone. The message opened, leaving a photograph to flash across the screen, remaining in view for as long as Delsin kept his thumb upon the screen. Across the photographic message lay a black bar with the message _I'll be waiting_ in white lettering.

"...quick."

The Conduit's voice cracked, something his friend noticed rather quickly, prompting him to take his eyes away from the televisions screen. He hit the start button on his controller, pausing the game, and looked over at Delsin in concern.

"Everything okay, man?" Eugene asked.

"Y-yeah," Delsin spluttered. He lifted his thumb away from the screen, ridding the photo from any possible view Eugene may have had, and leaving the timer beside the message to drop down to zero before the message was erased for good. He tossed the controller from his hand and onto the couch, standing and hastily shoving his phone back in his pocket. "Fetch just – uh – needs some help with some – er – things – dealers! Yeah, dealers. Sorry to cut it short, man. We can continue this tomorrow or something!

And as his friend all but ran out of his apartment, Eugene grew curious as to just what it was that the snapchat sent to Delsin contained that had him in such a rush.

And upon a hunch and sudden realization, Eugene scrunched his face together in disgust and groaned. "Ewww..!"

* * *

**_A/N_**: Here is your daily dose of humor, everyone! This idea popped into my head late yesterday, and it was begging to be written – and now, here we are. You can decide just what exactly it was that Fetch sent Delsin. Gotta love imagination, yeah? As always, thank you for your reviews and continuing support. Until next time!


	11. Mornings

His elbow dug into the mattress beneath him, popping him up as he rested his cheek against his knuckles. His dark eyes traveled across her pale back, observing the way her muscles rippled beneath her skin as she stretched in the morning sun. He caught a glimpse of the contours of her face – nearly silhouetted against the bright sunlight – as she turned her head and reached out for her hair tie that sat upon the nightstand. As she moved her hands behind her head, gathering her dark pink hair together and tying it up in its usual fashion, Delsin couldn't resist the smile threatening to spread across his face.

He reached out, wrapping his arm around her bare midriff, and pulled her against him, smiling wider when she yelped in surprise. Her hair spilled across his face, for her had interrupted her attempt at starting her morning, and he scrunched his face as strands tickled at his nose. He spluttered briefly, ridding the strands which had found their way into his mouth during his laughter, and quickly whipped his head to the side in order to completely rid her hair from his face, resting his chin where her shoulder met her collarbone.

"The hell are you doing, D?" she inquired, a giggle squeaking past her lips at the sensation of the young man's eyelashes tickling at her bare skin.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" he questioned in response, as if his actions were pointing out the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm keeping you hostage."

"That sounds great and all," she began, turning in his hold to face him; their noses brushed against one another, "but we already promised to meet Teen Angel for coffee this morning."

Delsin groaned inwardly – partially not wanting to express his lack of enthusiasm in meeting his friend so early in the morning, and partially not wanting to blow his hot, morning breath directly in Fetch's face.

He turned his head, allowing him a direct gaze at the ceiling above them, and resorted to a sigh. His hand moved atop the young woman's head, fingers running through and playing with her hair. He glanced toward her from the corners of his eyes; upon close examination, he could faintly make out the medium brown color of the roots of her hair beginning to peek through. Someone was in need of a fresh coloring. "Eugene has been late for shit we've had planned plenty of times – it's our turn to be late, now."

"Delsin..." the sound of his name leaving her lips faded out in a yawn. She nuzzled further against the crook of his neck and closed her eyes. For someone so adamant on keeping plans, Fetch was definitely putty in Delsin's hands. "The poor kid'll be alone – that's not exactly fun, looking like a loner."

"Look at it this way," the young Akomish man began, moving his arm atop his pillow, resting it just above his head. He turned his head, slightly, and sat his chin atop her own, continuing his playful acts with her hair. "Some girl in there may end up thinking he's in the coffee shop all by his lonesome and strike up a conversation. An hour or so later, they got a date planned, and, boom! Instant match made in heaven – it's a win-win!"

"Win-win, how?" Fetch mumbled against Delsin's skin, seemingly drawing out each word intentionally, allowing her more time to move her lips across his neck. He shuddered under her touch. "Eugene possibly snags himself a girl while you and I sleep in?"

"I don't remember ever saying anything about sleeping."

In an instant, their faces were inches away from each other; Delsin's nose twitched from side to side at the tickling sensation of Fetch's hair having fallen upon his sensitive skin, to which Fetch grinned in amusement. The air leaving her nostrils and tickling his face didn't help the situation, either. She pursed her lips.

"Ten minutes."

"Make it fifteen – Game Boy can wait."

A roll of the eyes was the only response Delsin received, followed by the sensation of lips moving against his own, and the sheets being pulled up and over their bodies.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Hello, everyone! I'm back with another update. This popped into my head one night, and I can just see Delsin being this type of lover/boyfriend - I just hope you all enjoyed. Perhaps the next chapter will have some action, or maybe even more Eugene? Only time will tell! Until next time! Thank you all for the reviews! :D


	12. Best Friend

He held an old, tattered teddy bear in his hands – one he had found amongst the clutter of the Olaf's Sea Shack billboard the pink-haired Conduit now formerly resided.

He'd been helping her pack what little she owned with intent to bring it all to her first real home – an apartment he had helped her acquire after pulling some strings and pulling the she-not-only-helped-save-Seattle-from-drug-dealers-and-Augustine, but-also-happens-to-be-dating-Delsin-Rowe-sorta-kinda card. While stuffing small items such as books and hair dye into the box he carried beneath his arm, he had come across the stuffed animal, sitting forgotten behind several boxes the neon Conduit had used as makeshift tables. What was surely once a toy with a light brown color was now ridden with dirt, dust, and tears across its body. It was truly a pathetic sight, one that made Delsin wince in horror as he remembered his own stuffed toy that sat back at his home, atop a shelf in pristine condition.

"Hey, Fetch?" He called as he stood from his kneeling position and walked toward the edge of the billboard, gazing out into the open and scanning the area for the pink-haired young woman who had left him in order to place the boxes she had packed into the back of Reggie's pick-up truck; the truck Delsin had taken into his possession soon after taking down Augustine. He waved the stuffed toy in the air gingerly, just as she had materialized in the corner of his eye. "You still want this torn up thing?"

His eyebrow raised in curiosity as the young woman's face contorted in to several different expressions at once. In an instant, her brow furrowed in question and her eyes narrowed as she gazed at the object in the other Conduit's grasp; quickly, however, her eyes widened and her mouth fell agape in what Delsin could only assume was realization, and in a typical Abigail Walker manner, she disappeared in a stream of bright, pink light, dashing up into the inside of the billboard, and materializing beside Delsin. She snatched the bear from his grasp.

"Where did you find this?" she asked, holding the stuffed toy out before her. She ran her thumbs across the bear's worn stomach.

Delsin jabbed his thumb behind him, raising his brow and glancing out of the corners of his eyes quickly. "Back behind those boxes – why? 'You been looking for it?"

"I have," she answered him, thumbs continuing to run across the stuffed toy's stomach. She carefully examined the areas in which stuffing protruded out, as well as where one of the toy's button eyes once sat. "I thought I lost it after…" her eyes flickered toward her late brother's name burned into the wall of the billboard, continuing to shine bright since she first inscribed it. "Brent gave it to me."

Oh.

So that's why she hadn't thrown it out long before.

"He'd picked it up not too long after we left home; he wanted his kid sis to have some sense of innocence while we were out on the streets – ya know, back when he couldn't imagine either of us being…" she trailed off, not wanting to finish her statement most likely in attempt to avoid the painful memories associated with it. Delsin was knowledgeable enough to finish it himself, leading to his arm wrapped protectively around the young woman's shoulders and pulling her close against his side. "I'd left it in the alleyway when the D.U.P. picked me up – thankfully when I came back it was still there. I guess I just kinda let it get lost in here after that."

He didn't need to press any further. After losing his parents in his earlier years, and now dealing with the recent loss of his older brother, Delsin knew just how difficult it was to hold on to something given to you by that person, let alone be in possession of something that they once owned. It was hard enough for him to be in possession of Reggie's old, beat up truck, but having to deal with something as small as a stuffed toy sitting in plain view day in and day out would drive anyone to even intentionally lose it. However, something told the young Akomish man that his recent finding of the toy brought back many happy memories, and a sense of joy to the neon Conduit at his side.

His lips pressed against her temple, lingering for just a tad bit longer than usual upon her skin, and he swore to himself that he felt the young woman press her body as close to his as possible without removing her attention from the stuffed animal.

The two of them completed their task of loading the boxes of Fetch's belongings into the back of the truck – not that there was much to begin with. She had kept the worn toy in her grasp through the entire process, only setting it down beside herself and Delsin as she hopped into the truck cab and secured herself with the seatbelt. Not one word was spoken between the two; the roar of the engine and the music from the radio being the only things to break the silence in the air. He had helped carry the boxes into her new apartment, offering to assist her in unpacking but ultimately having his offer turned down by the young woman with the dark pink hair. He left her, at that point, with a chaste kiss and a low goodbye, hoping that she knew she could open up to him about anything, but giving her the space she needed to gather her thoughts and hopefully overcome her grief.

It wasn't until a few days later that she invited him over to see how furnishing her apartment was coming along, where he spotted the worn out stuffed toy rid of the dirt upon its fur, and sitting atop the small nightstand beside her bed, where Brent could watch over his young sister through the gift he had given her so long ago.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Apologies for the prolonged wait! I hope this makes up for it. I have the next few oneshots planned out - some action, some Eugene, and of course, some more day-in-the-life shots - I just need to get them written out when I have the time. I'll try my best, though. In the meantime, I hope you all enjoyed this little chapter, and if I gave you feels, then my job has been completed. Thank you all for the reviews, and to those continuing to read, as well as those who are just stumbling upon this collection! Enjoy your stay, and I will see you all next time!


	13. Arms Wide Open

She stood before the entrance to a small, older home overseeing the bay, anxiously fidgeting about as she waited for the young man accompanying her to exit the pickup truck and join her side. _Carcrashradio_ emitted rather loudly from the vehicle's speaker system, most likely tipping off the entirety of Salmon Bay about Delsin Rowe's long awaited return; she wasn't amused the slightest when she peeked at him over her shoulder, catching his eye as he was about to exit the truck's cab. To her annoyance, however, the young man stuck out his tongue and flashed the sign of horns, slightly banging his head in time to the music.

She folded her arms across her chest and sighed, rolling her eyes as she directed them back toward the wooden door of the old home. The blaring music, thankfully, died down, as did the low hum of the engine as it was shut off. The crunch of the gravel beneath his shoes filled her ears, and in a moment's time, the young Akomish man was by her side with a grin playing at his lips.

Pursing her lips and unfolding her arms, she punched his side.

He yelped at the sudden action, taken by surprise more so than having been in pain.

"Lighten up, Laser-girl!" he chuckled, rubbing the spot where contact had been made. He glanced down at the girl by his side. "There's nothing to be nervous about – it's just Betty."

"That's just it – it's just Betty," she stated sternly, furrowing her brow in concern. She hugged her arms close against her body, swaying from side to side as she attempted to rid herself of the anxious energy she held. "The motherly figure in your life; I have to make a good impression if I want her to accept me – but I'm sure she won't appreciate a former killing, ex-junkie Conduit dating her surrogate son."

His arm draped across her shoulders, hand dangling off of the side as he pulled her body close to his, stuffing his free hand in the pocket of his jeans. He squeezed her against him for a moment and chuckled once more, as though he found this entire situation, as well as her concern, to be one large joke.

"Betty is a pretty forgiving woman who always wants people to have their second chance – it's kind of an Akomish thing, too," Delsin informed. "Besides, this ex-junkie, killing machine is taking down dealers in Seattle with a more humane approach, and even helped little ol' Hero of Seattle over here take down Augustine – I think that would matter more to Betty than your past."

He had a point, she supposed; yet, even then, her fears and insecurities managed to get the best of her. Then again, could she have been jumping to conclusions far too soon? Spilling your past to people upon meeting them wasn't exactly something people did, but something told her that Delsin had already filled in the older woman on her past, which would explain just why he was as giddy as he was.

She watched him remove his hand from his pocket and raise his arm, hovering his fist above the wooden door before them. He glanced down at her and raised his brow as though silently asking if she was ready, to which she reluctantly nodded in reply. Upon his rhythmic knock upon the door, he whispered, "She'll love you," and gave her a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder.

Under her breath, the neon Conduit muttered, "We'll see," as she and the copycat Conduit awaited for the door to the old home to creak upon opening.

The two young adults stood before the entryway to the home for a moment's time, listening closely to the slow footsteps from within, as well as the softly spoken, "Just a minute!" from the elder woman within. The lock on the door could be heard unlocking from within, quickly followed by the squeak of the hinges as the wood was pulled open, revealing the short-statured Akomish woman who lived inside.

A soft smile had made its home upon her slightly wrinkled, tan face; and although she appeared happy, she also appeared rather exhausted if the dark circles around her eyes were anything to go by. While it hadn't exactly been just yesterday that Delsin had successfully removed the concrete from the old woman and the rest of the Akomish, the young woman that accompanied him on this visit guessed that her age most likely put a stint upon her recovery time. However, two weeks with wounds as severe as those Augustine inflicted upon the tribe would call for an extended amount of recovery, versus the wounds having been caused _naturally_, as some might have said.

"Delsin Rowe," the older woman stated, giving him a good look over. She placed her hands upon her hips. "I hope you're not back to cause mischief."

"Not today, Betty, don't worry," Delsin sighed, running her hand beneath his beanie and through his dark hair. "And – before you ask – no, I didn't come to check up on you… yet, anyway. You aren't looking all that hot, though, are you sure you're —"

"I'm fine, Delsin. Really."

"—right, well, I'll take your word for it. Today, anyway," he flashed a boyish smile. "I'm actually here to introduce you to someone!"

"And that someone would be this nice young woman, I hope," Betty turned her attention toward Fetch, her smile widening just the slightest. "Honestly, Delsin, I was beginning to wonder if you planned on just leaving her to fend for herself. I know you would rather appear as this rebellious young man, but I know better than anyone that there is a nice, young gentleman in that heart of yours."

Fetch squirmed beneath Delsin's hold and Betty's gaze, yet she smiled, nonetheless. She felt Delsin softly squeeze her shoulder in reassurance, and this gave her the courage to speak to this older woman for the first time.

"Abigail Walker," she spoke softly, taking a moment to inhale deeply before bringing her gaze to meet the older woman's. "My name is Abigail Walker."

The elder Akomish woman's lips moved quickly, forming an _O_ shape as if in realization. Her face brightened up, and her smile turned into that of knowing as he gaze flickered to Delsin rather quickly. "So this is the young woman you were telling me about, Delsin," she stated, causing Delsin's face to contort between several different expressions. "It's nice to finally meet you, Abigail. Delsin has told me a lot about you."

"Good things, I hope," Fetch chuckled nervously.

"Oh, of course!" Betty's smile widened, spreading from ear-to-ear. "This boy knows better than to bad mouth someone around me – isn't that right, Delsin?"

The young man scratched at the back of his neck and nodded.

"I will only say this," the old woman began, taking the neon Conduits small, pale hand in her own. She looked the young woman in the eyes and continued, "Don't let yesterday use up too much of today. You're an amazing young woman from what Delsin has told me – don't ever let that go to waste."

Warmth enveloped Fetch the moment Betty's kind words entered her ears, and a soft smile pulled at the corners of her lips. Having been so worried about the potentially judgmental gazes and comments she would receive from the old Akomish woman regarding her past, Fetch had completely doubted Delsin's trust, and instead wound up caught in her own thoughts and fears. She could feel a light tap to her shoulder, and quickly glancing to the side allowed her to catch the young man bouncing back into his upright position from bumping his shoulder against hers, wearing a pleased smirk upon his face.

The two were soon after invited inside of the Akomish woman's home, away from the cold of the winter, and into an especially welcoming atmosphere for the neon Conduit.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ The proverb Betty spoke in the last line of dialogue is of Cherokee origin, and the song mentioned in the beginning of the story - Carcrashradio - is by a favorite band of mine, Strung Out. Alas, I hope I've done this cliche plot justice. Let me know in the reviews, which, of course, I thank you all for! Until next time!


	14. Good Kisser

"Well," he began to announce, wiping his palms against each other rapidly, skin making a clapping noise with every time of contact, "that's the last of 'em. For now, anyway."

He leaned forward against the railing of the docks, overlooking the bay. The cool breeze of the night blew against his tanned skin, tickling his face and waving the strands of hair that stuck out from within his red beanie. The edges of his jean vest flapped against his body, further revealing that black, hooded sweatshirt and plaid button-up of his that he wore beneath. A yawn escaped past his lips, and after digging his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, he clicked it on and quickly glanced at the illuminated touchscreen.

12:37 A.M.

He clicked the button atop the phone, putting the device back into sleep mode, and shoved it back into his pocket. It was late – or, technically, early, but he wasn't one for technicalities – and although he had all of the energy in the world just moments earlier, carrying box after box of drugs and dumping them into the harbor tired him out. Whatever filled those boxes was definitely heavy, indeed, which made it difficult to judge just what variety of drugs filled them. He didn't care to ask, either, but he guessed it was something more _hardcore_ than weed – something he had smoked back in high school like any other rebellious teenager, but his smoking days were behind him.

Bright pink filled his right peripheral vision, and soon, the figure of a short young woman materialized beside him. The figure took his lead and leaned forward against the railing, as well, allowing her to become a tad bit clearer to the young man.

"I wonder how many fish we managed to get strung out so far, Smokes."

He cracked a crooked smile and breathed a small bout of laughter through his nose. His head cocked to the right and his eyes followed suit, landing upon the short statured, pink-haired, neon Conduit who stood beside him. Her gaze was settled upon the calm water before them, the moonlight reflecting off of the water illuminating her face in such a manner that allowed him to notice the lightest of freckles upon her face.

"With how much was in that truck, I'd say a good portion of the bay is high by now," he chuckled in reply to her spoken thought.

A silence fell over them, and although he was one who enjoyed loud noises – he played his music loud and watched his movies loud, and he did enjoy the hustle and bustle of the City of Seattle – it was a comfortable silence. He could hear cars driving upon the blacktop slick with freshly fallen rainwater; the occasional buzzing from streetlamps around them, signifying lights ready to burn out; the gentle waves of the bay crashing against the docks and cliff sides; the steady rhythm of a certain pair of lungs filling and deflating with every breath she took beside him. The silence allowed him to focus his senses upon his surroundings; allowed him to focus his senses on the young woman beside him – something he hadn't the pleasure of doing even once after their our-of-the-ordinary introductions.

The sound of her breathing was like music to his ears – rhythmic and soothing and unlike any of the music genres he preferred to listen to; a scent of lovely perfume mixed with the smell of the sea breeze and old books, with a hint of takeout food aromas filled his nostrils each time he neared her; hot pink hair accomplished with drugstore bought hair dye, medium sized, black gauges in both earlobes, round face, button nose accompanied by a nose ring, short stature, olive green coat hiding a rather simple outfit from behind.

Her appearance screamed punk rocker – something he was in to, unsurprisingly – but her personality said otherwise. A kind and caring young woman at heart; an ex-junkie who swore to rid the streets of illegal drugs and assist others in getting clean; an avid reader, if the books thrown about her sniper's nest were anything to go by; sentimental; and not to mention interested in music genres ranging from alternative, to pop, to country, to progressive house, and beyond.

She was as beautiful as beautiful could get, in his eyes.

So, in typical Delsin Rowe manner, he bumped his shoulder against hers as though to say, _hey, I like you. A lot._

She bumped back with equal force.

Although he couldn't accurately decipher her actions as playful, flirty, or just returning the favor out of annoyance, he felt something begin to brew in the pit of his stomach – something he hadn't felt since high school.

His heart began to race in his chest the moment her eyes made contact with his, a small smile playing at her lips.

All at once, thoughts began to swirl within the mess he called his mind; thoughts revolving around the promise he made to the tribe back home, thoughts about his older brother he left behind tonight, thoughts about Brooke Augustine and how he planned on taking her down and absorbing her power, thoughts on that third Conduit that roamed the streets of Seattle undetected, but more importantly, thoughts centered around the neon Conduit beside him. A moment of selfishness had overcame his being – a moment of desire for the young woman beside him.

His tongue darted out to run across his lips, moistening the once dry, thin layers of skin temporarily. He hadn't the slightest clue what had come over him, but all he knew was that, in that moment, he craved her lips upon his, despite having no prior knowledge of any taste she may have to her (given her scent, he was not in any doubt that she tasted amazing). His body yearned to feel every inch of her small frame pressed against his, leaving indents from his jeans upon the skin of his waist, as well as from the buttons on his vest against the skin of his chest. He wanted to forget his responsibilities (or, as Reggie would say, have a normal day in the life of Delsin Rowe) for even the shortest amount of time and throw caution to the wind.

His body moved all on its own, arm wrapping around the neon Conduit's waist, and free hand taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He pulled the young woman toward him, stopping only when her face was inches away from his; their noses bumped together awkwardly. He felt each exhale from her nose upon his face, causing him it to scrunch ever so slightly at the tickling sensation. Her eyes were wide, gazing into his with much confusion and surprise, and that was when he spoke just above an audible whisper, "I'm gonna' kiss you now… Okay?"

He wasn't exactly sure if her microscopic movement of her head was a nod or a shake, and even so, he pressed his lips to hers in a tender manner.

It took her a moment – one that felt like forever to Delsin – but the neon Conduit soon moved her lips in unison with his. It was rhythmic, like the sound of her breathing he had listened to just moments earlier, and everything he had hoped for and then some. The feeling of her upper lip between his, as well as her taste – which, in fact, was rather similar to her scent; summer-y like the ocean breeze, minty, perhaps from gum she may have chewed earlier, and topped off with a hint of the flavors of take-out food – sent that feeling off in his stomach once more. The hand that once held her chin had now found its way behind her neck; his fingers wrapped delicately around it as thought it was the most fragile of objects.

He hoisted her up as best as possible unto the railing of the dock, setting her backside upon it as her legs wrapped around his midsection. Their kiss broke momentarily at the motion, causing his lips to grace her cheek, leaving behind a thin film of saliva that he was unsure whom exactly it belonged to. His lips found their way against hers rather quickly, however, and his tongue slipped inside of her mouth rather carelessly.

It wasn't until he felt the tip of her tongue against his that he realized just what was happening, and pulled away, ending the kiss rather messily.

"Er," he stammered, attempting to step back, only to realize that her legs kept him in place. His hands, however, shot back to his sides. "I'm sorry, I don't really know what—"

A giggle escaped her throat, and a pink tint crept onto her face – something Delsin found extremely adorable, and never thought he would see from the neon Conduit. "It's okay – I want to kiss you."

He was pulled back down toward her with such force, that he was sure they would fall into the water below if it hadn't been for his hands to shoot out and grasp the railing to keep them in place.

He felt her smile against the kiss, causing him to do the same.

* * *

_**A/N:**_ Sorry this took so long - I wanted to make sure it was perfect. This specific chapter is post-Trash the Stash mission. I couldn't help but picture Delsin as a big, awkward, dork during his first kiss with Fetch. Hope you all enjoyed, and as always, thanks for the reviews! Until next time!


	15. Candid

To say he's surprised by her love of photography is an understatement.

Perhaps it is his naivety that makes him forget that she led a normal life before discovering her abilities as a Conduit; but when she comes home to their new apartment on a colorful spring day with a plastic bag from the local electronics store on her arm, he is taken aback.

She takes her newly acquired item out of the plastic bag per his request – and much to his confusion, the box is covered in bold print with not much of a variety in color, depicting the name of the brand, and the word DSLR to the left of a picture of what was inside of the box.

A professional level camera.

He isn't exactly sure just how she came into possession of the item – through purchase, obviously, but how she managed to scounder up enough money for such a purchase is beyond his comprehension. He had always thought a recovering addict who had done time in what he likes to call Super Jail from Hell (a.k.a. Curden Cay) would have little to no money to their name; however, out of respect and not wanting to be the cause of that adorable smile of hers vanishing from her face, he keeps his wonders to himself, and instead raises his brow and motions toward the camera box.

"It's a camera," she says, beginning to carefully pull the cardboard box apart.

"You don't say," he sarcastically replies. He sets his feet upon the ground and lifts himself off of the sofa, grabbing his soda can from the coffee table, and makes his way over to her. Her stops just behind her, bending his back just a bit to allow easy access to rest his chin against her shoulder. "I meant – seeing as how I've never heard one word about taking pictures or whatever from you – what's it for?"

She lifts several cords and small, ziplock bags out of the box and sets them on the tabletop. "For photography," she states with the slightest hint of a smirk playing at her pink lips. The camera is in her hands, now, and she begins to examine it all while attempting to keep a leash on her obvious excitement.

He pouts, though she cannot see. "It seems as though you're becoming as big of a smartass as I am, Fetch," he sighs and hugs her waist from behind. "I never knew you were into this kind of stuff."

She shrugs ever so slightly after pressing back into his embrace. "It's something I've always been interested in – I've just never had the time or resources to try it out myself."

He contemplates asking just how she came about the means to purchase the camera for the second time that day, but, again, decides it best to avoid. Instead, he inquires more about her newfound hobby, enjoying just how happy it made her. "So, what are we talkin' here? Nature? Portrait? Wildlife?"

"A little here, a little there."

"You're in luck then, Ms. Walker!" he grins, nuzzling against the crook of her neck. "While I can't supply the wildlife or the nature, I can supply my handsome face, and would be honored to model for you. If you're lucky, I'll even pose nude for – ow!"

She's pushed herself out of his embrace harshly, forcing him back a few steps. Although he can see the faintest of smiles on her face at – what he hopes – is from his (non) joke, he can also see the classic Abigail "Fetch" Walker annoyance in her eyes.

Raising his arms in defeat, he takes himself and his can of soda back to the sofa without a word.

He finds freshly developed photographs atop their shared dresser about a week after the camera is brought into their home.

He's bobbing his head to the beat of one of his many _A Day to Remember_ songs as he takes the glossy, photograph paper into his hands, fanning them out in order to get a better look at just what his girlfriend (he could consider her that, right? They were dating, after all, as well as living with each other. He just never made things official.) had captured with her camera's eye.

A rather familiar face was featured in each of the five photographs he had come across.

Messy, dark hair splayed across the subject's face as he slept on the couch, one leg hanging over the armrest while the other allowed his foot to be planted firmly against the carpeted ground. His hand rested atop his stomach, just underneath his plaid button-up.

In the next, the young man was captured mid-laugh, showing a rather happy expression, clearly finding whatever he had been laughing at utterly hilarious.

He's shuffling through the remaining three photographs, marveling at the quality and talent he hadn't known Fetch was capable of. He had been her model, alright – she had managed to snap photographs without his knowledge, and in his mind, he reasoned with himself that those were better than any of the stupid poses he had planned to come up with.

He decides, setting the photographs back upon the top of the dresser, to let her little secret remain as so, and plans to laugh, smile, and even brood more if it meant making her happy.

* * *

_**A/N:**_Not too sure about the ending, here, but I wasn't sure how to end it in another way. Anywho, this lovely oneshot was inspired by a headcanon given to me by tumblr user hgrimm23! Thank you, again :D I hope I did your headcanon justice. In the meantime, I hope you all enjoyed, and until next time!


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